


The Merry Dance

by doomedship



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-11-24 17:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20911127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomedship/pseuds/doomedship
Summary: A chance encounter in the middle of the night raises more questions than it answers in the wake of Eliza Campion's arrival at Sanditon. Set post episode 6.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written between the airing of episode 6 and 7 and loosely references some of the previews which have been released. Once the rest of the episodes are released it might not look much like what actually happens, but let us continue! I am not typically a regency writer, but I have so enjoyed this pairing that I'm dipping a toe in the water. Hopefully a few more chapters to come.

Night had fallen in Sanditon, a cold clear one with a high wind roiling up the seafront, so the windows in the house rattled whenever a particularly determined gust blew through it. This would have been no particular concern, for at the terribly late hour it was, every member of the household ought to have been soundly asleep, and therefore quite ignorant of the inclement weather. Yet, though the day had been a busy one full of preparation and excitement for the upcoming regatta, a certain Miss Charlotte Heywood found herself still wide awake in the Parkers’ guest bedroom long after the family had retired for the night.

As the window-frame continued its commotion, Charlotte lay restlessly on her side under the covers, the puncturing brightness of the night's half-moon casting an eerie silver glow over the bedroom, now occupied by her so long that everyone had quite come to consider it hers. Even Tom and Mary, whose room it really was, had begun to refer to it in passing as 'Charlotte's room', which filled her with an unrelenting warmth to be so accepted into their home.

The reason for Charlotte’s unwanted wakefulness was, she thought, both simple and extraordinarily complicated all at once. There were many things to think about, and it seemed her mind felt that this mid-night hour was surely the time to consider them. For one thing, there was Tom and his frantic anxiety over the success of the regatta. Whether there were sufficient guests, whether the weather would permit the race. Yet interest had become quite widespread, and Charlotte was not especially worried that the event would not succeed. No, Charlotte knew that the source of her troubled mind lay elsewhere, and more specifically, in the affairs of another Mr Parker altogether.

The events of the day had troubled her greatly. Sidney had spent the entirety of it at the side of one Mrs Eliza Campion, who was by all accounts a fine and intelligent lady with all the maturity and the experience which Charlotte knew she herself must be lacking. She, who sat amongst the children, while Mrs Campion hung gladly upon Sidney’s arm. And Sidney, who let her.

Charlotte had been struck by the awkwardness of the encounter between herself, Sidney and Mrs Campion on the beach. For one thing, there was Sidney’s failure to introduce her to Mrs Campion in the proper manner, as if perhaps she were an embarrassment to keep to one side. For another, there was Mrs Campion’s obvious disdain for her, and the undeniable sting she had felt in her heart when Sidney had walked away with Mrs Campion on his arm, leaving her with the children and feeling as if perhaps, after all, that was all he still considered her to be. At best, a nursemaid, and at worst, one of them.

She could not help but feel a sense of dread growing with each moment that it was only a matter of time before Eliza Campion had Sidney firmly within her grasp as she had once before, and in doing so, would extinguish whatever confused and fledgling sentiment currently lived within Charlotte’s breast in respect of Sidney Parker. Charlotte chastised herself silently for allowing herself to indulge such feelings, and screwed up her eyes tightly shut as if to force sleep upon them.

Yet as more minutes passed by with not even a hint of sleep on the edges of her mind, Charlotte slid her legs out from under the covers, dangling bare feet over the edge of the bed, and immediately she shivered as the cold air assailed her skin. She quickly sought a long woollen shawl to throw over her shoulders and slippers for her feet as she went to stand by the window a moment, considering the sway of the trees and the long silver shore in the distance where the waves were turbulent and crashing as the night tempted the wind ever higher.  
  
Like a flash, a different image of the swirling water sprang to mind, of an afternoon down by the coves, a memory which seemed both so recent and so far away. A forbidden glimpse of all that she had no right to look upon, and which now plagued her mind and left her in a state of constant and fitful unease. She left the window quickly, and instead decided to leave her bedroom and start down the stairs with a mind to relax in the sitting room a short while, preferably with a book, and perhaps distracting herself sufficiently to return to her bed and finally sleep.

Taking pains to be as quiet as possible on the floorboards, Charlotte crossed the hallway, navigating the darkness cautiously with a hand stretched in front of her until she counted her way to the correct door, leading to the Parkers’ sitting room. She was perplexed to see a glow in the gap between the door and the frame, and wondered whether somehow someone had forgotten to extinguish the fire within. Turning the doorknob, Charlotte opened the door and blinked in surprise as she was presented with another’s presence instead of a the empty room she had been anticipating.

"Mr Parker!" exclaimed Charlotte, clutching the doorway in alarm, and momentarily befuddled as to what to do. She had not expected to chance upon anyone at such a late hour, let alone Mr Sidney Parker himself, and all at once she was acutely aware of the impropriety of the encounter at such an hour and dressed as she was.  
  
"Miss Heywood," said Sidney, a mixture of surprise and perhaps intrigue crossing his face as he hastily rose to his feet and set the book he was holding to one side. He himself was dressed only in shirtsleeves and breeches, the first buttons of his shirt left open and the early signs of dark stubble shadowing his jaw, and Charlotte blushed slightly to catch him in such a state of relative undress. Though, she reasoned, it could not be said that this was the most improperly dressed she had ever encountered him, and she had to purposefully restrain her mind from recalling once again the image of him emerging from the waves, lest the intensity of her blushes give her thoughts away.  
  
"I see your omnipresence has extended at last beyond merely the daylight hours," said Sidney, raising his eyebrows at her, though his tone and his look was one of jest and not expressly of annoyance. Charlotte laughed sheepishly, and took a small step further into the room.  
  
"I apologise for intruding upon your solitude yet again," she said, offering a small smile, which she was relieved to find returned by him.  
  
"I shall find it in myself to forgive you, and invite you to join me. If it would not be too impertinent to do so at such an hour.”  
  
"I have never known fear of impertinence to be a barrier in our conversations in all the time we have been acquainted, Mr Parker," said Charlotte lightly, and Sidney chuckled, perhaps recollecting the many times they had been quite at odds. Though the sound brought a sensation of warmth to her abdomen, Charlotte pulled her shawl more closely around herself, quite aware of the thinness of her nightgown beneath the woollen cover, but if Sidney had noticed such he did not seem to be offended, and gestured her to sit upon the couch opposite his own. Charlotte moved carefully to it, sitting on one end with her knees pressed tightly together and her arms clutching the shawl firmly around her shoulders. Sidney seated himself once again, but made no move to take up his book.  
  
"So. To what do I owe the pleasure of finding you up at such an hour, Miss Heywood? I hope you are not in any distress following our unfortunate escapade with Georgiana. I should not like to have contributed to the cause of such insomnia."  
  
Charlotte took care to keep her expression unaffected by his words. It would not do to reveal that thoughts of him were indeed the reason she found herself unable to sleep, although for rather different reasons to those he suspected.   
  
"No, I'm quite well, though I am sorry for Georgiana," said Charlotte. She averted her gaze and studied the fine pattern on Tom and Mary's hearth rug. "I suppose it is true there are many things on my mind, with Tom's hopes so firmly pinned on the regatta, and Lady Denham's illness, of course."  
  
Sidney looked at her with an eyebrow raised, and Charlotte knew he saw through her vague excuse quite plainly, but she did not proffer further elaboration. In truth, though she was sorry for anyone to endure an illness, she did not hold much tenderness of feeling to Lady Denham at all. To her relief, Sidney did not challenge her.  
  
"Yes. I daresay the regatta might be the making of Sanditon, if it is to be a success," said Sidney, thumbing the spine of his book thoughtfully. "Tom deserves a victory."  
  
"I am sure that he will have it," said Charlotte firmly. Her gaze slid sidewards once again. "And with Mrs Campion attending, I am sure that others will follow her example."  
  
She felt rather than saw Sidney tense opposite her, and wondered if she had committed a grave error. She braced herself for a further onslaught of his now-familiar temper as she dared to look once more at him, a light flush reaching her cheeks. She was surprised by the intensity of his expression, unashamedly staring back at her, though his jaw was tight and his brow deeply furrowed as he regarded her.  
  
"Why do you speak of Mrs Campion?" Sidney asked. Charlotte swallowed and fidgeted with the ends of her shawl, looking down into her lap.  
  
"Your brother mentioned her, that is all," said Charlotte. "He said she is recently widowed, and in possession of a fine fortune."  
  
"She is." Sidney had begun to look more like the first, ill-humoured version of himself, the man who had taken great pains to offend and insult her, rather than the warm and playful one she had been so glad to see emerging in recent days. She felt a stab of concern in her belly.  
  
"I am sorry," said Charlotte quietly. "I have offended you. I should not have mentioned her, it is none of my business."  
  
"No," said Sidney, leaning back and exhaling slowly. "It is not that. You are perfectly entitled to ask of her, as I have brought her here. But at least tell me what it is you really mean by asking. You do not mean to reflect upon her fortune or her position in society, I am sure."  
  
Charlotte looked at him for a long moment, words forming and unforming in her mind. She sensed she was in a precarious position, and did not wish to further embarrass herself by saying the wrong thing.  
  
"Your brother told me of your history with her," confessed Charlotte at last. "I am... confused as to what it is you mean by inviting her here."  
  
Sidney was silent, leaning his elbows on his knees as he regarded her. There was pain, and some reluctance, in his expression.  
  
"You wish to know whether I am interested in pursuing her again, now that she is once again unattached?"

Charlotte looked away, recoiling at the embarrassment of having such a conversation with him, about such a subject that was in truth not her business and fully risked revealing every one of her burgeoning feelings for him. Yet she could not deny it, when he posed the question so directly, and simply nodded wordlessly as she waited for his reply, the possible imminence of his censure causing her fingers to clench.  
  
"I am not," said Sidney simply, and without guise. Charlotte's eyes flew back to meet his.  
  
"But at the ball, you seemed so... engrossed. And you have been so attentive to her, since she has been in Sanditon, I thought…"

"Ever the presumptions, Miss Heywood," said Sidney quietly, but he looked more pensive than displeased with her as he met her eye, his expression conflicted. "I confess there was a moment of... strong feeling, upon seeing her again after such time had passed. I have often thought that if I were to see her again, I should be in grave danger of immediately feeling once again what led me to such a grievous loss in the first instance." He studied his steepled hands, and again Charlotte's heart sank. "But in the event, though I felt surprise, and some gladness to see her well, I am not the man I was when we first knew one another. I am certainly not the man who was in love with her."

"Your brother seemed so sure..."  
  
"My brother has many qualities, but accurate observation of others' feelings has rarely been among them," said Sidney. He tilted his head, considering her slowly. "Well then, Miss Heywood. Now that this is out in the open between us, are we to conclude that this has been the true cause of your sleeplessness, rather than your professed charitable concern for Lady Denham's well-being?"

“I...” Charlotte felt her cheeks flush scarlet as she found herself quite at a loss for words. She rose to her feet in sudden agitation, unable to look him in the eye any longer and afraid of what she would find if she looked at him again. She turned her back as she stared into the low flames flickering in the fireplace.  
  
"Miss Heywood."  
  
Charlotte closed her eyes and struggled for a sensible thought that might achieve an escape from this line of questioning, but, falling upon no such rescue, she remained mute.  
  
"Charlotte."

Charlotte jumped. She had been so flustered she not heard him rise from his seated position, and was thus startled to discover his sudden proximity as she turned around to find him standing not two feet before her, his towering frame solid and unyielding in front of her. Thrown by his use of her Christian name on his lips, which he had never used before, she grasped for words that would place her back on solid ground.

“It is only that I was concerned for your feelings,” she said, dropping her gaze. “For I do not wish to see you hurt by her, Mr Parker. You have become a friend to me these past days, and I would not care to see you disappointed.” Sidney looked back at her for a long moment, before taking a step back.

“Your concern for my welfare is much appreciated, Miss Heywood” he said, his tone noticeably cooler. “If that is your fear, I shall certainly endeavour not to fall under _any_ such feminine spell as to result in the disappointment of which you speak, Miss Heywood.”

Charlotte looked at him, dismayed. “Mr Parker, that is not what I-”

“I fear the hour has become exceptionally late, Miss Heywood,” interjected Sidney, turning his back to her as he walked to the couch and reached for his book once more. “It would not do for my brother or his wife to wake and discover us here, alone. I shall bid you good-night, and I do hope that you are able to overcome your sleeplessness safe in the knowledge that I am quite untroubled where my acquaintance with Mrs Campion is concerned.”

He ducked his head to her in semblance of decorum, before striding purposefully for the open doorway, and heading silently up the stairs. Charlotte was left staring rather mortified after him, her thoughts full of swirling confusion as to the exchange that had just passed between them. Sinking onto one of the couches slowly, her heart, which had been thudding so frantically in her chest from the moment Sidney had approached her, finally seemed to calm, and she was left to ruminate on the peculiar turn of events in the overwhelming silence.

What _had _occurred between them? Why had he taken such offence to her admittedly specious claim of innocent concern for him? She thought of the intensity of his look as he stood before her, wondered what it was he had wanted her to say that had led to such anger on his part.

She had not dared to think that Sidney might too be experiencing what Lady Susan had so adamantly labelled ‘love’, for she had barely had time to come to terms with such a notion on her part, let alone his. And she did not dare think _now_ that that could be true; if it were, she suspected she had managed to extinguish whatever there was between them, so it was of little consequence.

Charlotte allowed her head to thud back against the couch. She had not been lying when Lady Denham challenged her to deny her pursuit of a husband in Sanditon. She really _had _given no thought to such matters, in all of her days spent here, and now that the merest thought of romance was circling the forefront of her mind, she had not the slightest knowledge of what to do with it.

Exclaiming her frustration aloud, though quietly, Charlotte rose to her feet and slowly climbed the stairs to return to her room. It would not do to remain awake all night, and she hoped that some solution to this conundrum might present itself to her rested mind, for at present, she could not conceive of a single thing to say to him that would ease the simmering tension in their fractious acquaintance. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte visits Georgiana, in the hopes of shedding some light on her situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this was written before episode 7 aired, so it will be slightly AU from there (although some of the previews informed some of the events).

The next morning dawned bright and fair, and Charlotte found herself waking early despite the hour at which she had eventually fallen asleep, weariness at last overcoming her turbulent thoughts sufficiently to allow her to drift off. Upon waking to the sunlight streaming in through the window, she lay in drowsy contentment for a few long moments until her mind returned to her and she recalled all at once the events of several hours earlier.

Charlotte sat bolt upright in her bed and pressed her hand to her forehead, recollecting the episode of embarrassment which had occurred in the sitting room in the middle of the night. An unwelcome knot of anxiety crept its way into her stomach, and Charlotte slowly lifted the blankets and climbed out of bed, dressing half in haste and half in reluctance as she prepared to go downstairs where she knew she would encounter the ordinary bustle of the Parkers at breakfast. What else she might encounter, she did not yet know, and was somewhat loathe to find out.

Would he be there? Would he acknowledge her? Would he pretend nothing had happened in those early hours? It was unfathomable, and Charlotte did not have the slightest inkling of the expected etiquette for a situation such as this. A near-romantic entanglement was not something that had ever been remotely in prospect and now that it was (if it could still be said to be, after his cool dismissal of her), she was entirely out of her depth. She had no parent or elder sibling present to ask about such things, and even if she had, she did not know if she would have the gall to discuss it openly. 

Charlotte concluded there was nothing for it but to proceed as normal and to go downstairs. If she were to come face to face with him, she would merely have to manage the situation with as much grace as possible, and it would not be the first time she found herself in an awkward situation with Sidney Parker.

With that in mind, she descended the stairs with her back straight, and greeted Mary and Tom seated at the breakfast table.

"Ah, Charlotte, my dear, you're up nice and early. Unlike my dear brother; I can't think what's keeping him a-bed so late this morning..."

Charlotte ducked her head and concealed a flush as she helped herself to toast and jam, and exchanged pleasantries with Mary about the fine weather ahead of the regatta, whilst Tom continued to muse aloud to the room in general.

"...hope he's not too late, for Mrs Campion is calling this morning and he simply mustn't keep her waiting-"

"Mrs Campion is coming? Again?" said Charlotte, almost upending her teacup as she turned her attention back to Tom. She sensed Mary giving her a curious sidelong look, and knew her exclamation had demonstrated far too keen an interest, but Tom carried on blithely.

"Yes, yes, indeed!" said Tom brightly. "They are quite inseparable once more, are they not, Mary?"

"Well, they have been apart for some time, I imagine they have much to catch up on," said Mary diplomatically, her eyes rather fixed on Charlotte, who fought not to flush and tried to resume drinking tea in a more orderly fashion.

"Indeed they have, but I am sure this is Sidney's chance at perfect happiness at last, Mary, for he has always loved Eliza most dearly. And does he not deserve a happy ending, my dear?"

"Certainly he does, but as to whether it shall be with Mrs Campion, I simply couldn't say," said Mary, somewhat pointedly, but Tom was paying little attention and smiled delightedly at the prospect of Sidney's rekindled romance, waving a butter knife in the air in his enthusiasm.

Charlotte remained silent, and tried to recall what it was that Sidney had said to her on the subject. He had stated quite plainly that he did not love Eliza Campion, had he not? Yet he had not mentioned that he was to see her again today, and perhaps his words were merely a denial while he better considered his options. A multitude of doubts beset Charlotte's mind, and she found suddenly she had little appetite, so she set aside the remainder of her breakfast and sought to excuse herself from the table.

"Please excuse me, I have just remembered that I am to call on Georgiana this morning, and I must make haste if I am to catch her before she sets off for her morning lessons," she said quickly, and pushed her chair back.

"Oh yes, of course, Charlotte," said Tom gamely, noticing nothing amiss. "Do wish Miss Lambe well from us, won't you?"

"Of course, Mr Parker," said Charlotte, and she made for the door leading to the hallway, avoiding Mary’s keen gaze as best she could. She had only just reached the foot of the stair, one foot aloft to climb upon it, when a sudden voice called out to her from the front door.

"Oh, it's Miss Hardwood, isn't it?" said the high, rather pretty voice. Charlotte spun, only to find Eliza Campion standing in the hallway, smoothing her bonnet ribbons as she regarded Charlotte with a pleasant smile. She was very fair, her cheekbones as angular as Charlotte’s were rounded, and her hair as golden as Charlotte’s was dark.

"It's Miss Heywood," said Charlotte, trying for as pleasant a smile as she could muster as she clasped her hands in front of her and faced Mrs Campion squarely. "How do you do, Mrs Campion."

"My apologies, Miss Heywood. Sidney did not trouble to introduce us properly yesterday, I fear," said Mrs Campion with another fair smile. "It is a most fine day; I hope Sidney plans to take me to the bathing machines again. It is such a pleasant and... secluded spot, is it not?"

"Of course," said Charlotte, willing her voice to remain steady, and resolved not to stoop to pettiness. Mrs Campion was the picture of decorum and politeness, yet Charlotte sensed she either thought Charlotte a threat to whatever designs she had in being present in Sanditon, or simply not worth her friendship, and Charlotte could feel the hostility behind each of her smiles. "I hope you have a very fine day. Do excuse me, Mrs Campion, I must-"

"You have my apologies, Eliza, I am most atrociously late- Miss Heywood!" exclaimed Sidney, his hurried steps down the staircase ceasing at once as he saw Charlotte standing beside Mrs Campion. He blinked for a few moments, seemingly at a loss, and Mrs Campion pushed past Charlotte so she was stood firmly between the two of them.

"That's perfectly all right, Sidney," she said with a laugh. "I trust you're quite ready?"

Sidney's eyes, which had been fixed on Charlotte's, drifted back to Mrs Campion and he smiled.

"Ah, yes, of course," he said. So, without another look at Charlotte, he offered Mrs Campion his arm and they exited the house through the front door, Mrs Campion glancing back to smile at Charlotte as they went.

Charlotte went at once to her bedroom, tumultuously endeavouring to process what had happened in the hallway, and she wrestled with what felt altogether like a block of lead settling in her stomach. After some time pacing back and forth, Charlotte came to the conclusion that there was little else she could do but visit Georgiana as she had claimed, and she set off into the crisp yet clear air, her bonnet ribbons flying on the breeze.

Georgiana was pleased to see Charlotte, though her mood was subdued, as might be expected following her separation from Mr Molyneux. Charlotte hoped her friend's good spirits might yet return, but anticipated that it would be while yet before such a recovery was in contemplation. Yet it appeared that despite her own sorrows, Georgiana's powers of observation were not at all diminished, and she put her hands upon her hips as she demanded of Charlotte: "Whatever is the matter? You look as morose as if you have been made to listen to old Lady Denham give a sermon on her views on matrimonial relations."

Charlotte sighed and clasped Georgiana's hand. "I am sorry, Georgiana. I am indeed distracted. It's just..." she tailed off, studying her friend's intrigued expression and struggling to vocalise the thoughts on her mind. After all, Georgiana had had plenty of grievances with Sidney. Charlotte did not know what view she would take on the subject of her own feelings for him, and wondered whether it was entirely sensible to confess to them.

"Charlotte?" interjected Georgiana. "What is it?"

"How did you know that you were in love with Otis?" asked Charlotte suddenly. Georgiana looked surprised, then thoughtful.

"Well, I suppose, it was the feeling I had around him. That I would walk into a room and not be able to look at anyone else in it. That I never wanted to part company with him. That his opinion mattered to me more than anyone else's."

Charlotte's heart sank. Georgiana's description was all too recognisable, and not the reassurance she had hoped for. Georgiana's eyes lit up.

"Don't tell me you are in love, Charlotte Heywood," exclaimed Georgiana. "Who is it? Why did you not tell me sooner? Oh, Charlotte, I am very happy for you. Pray tell me the name of this gentleman who has you blushing so deeply!"

"No, Georgiana, there is no one. I am not in love," said Charlotte in haste. "It is only that... Mrs Campion is in Sanditon at Mr Sidney Parker's invitation, and I wondered what was between them. That is all."

Georgiana's eyebrows raised so high they all but disappeared in the tendrils of her hair over her forehead.

"Sidney," Georgiana echoed in disbelief, looking as if Charlotte had just declared passionate love for Lady Denham herself. "Sidney Parker is the one? The one you are in love with?"

"I am not in love with him!" exclaimed Charlotte indignantly. "At least, I do not mean to be. I would not know, for I have never been in love before, and it is altogether _too confusing_, and too difficult to fathom, and-"

"I see!" Georgiana interjected hastily. She put one hand to her forehead and then blinked several times at Charlotte, who fidgeted under her gaze. "Well I cannot say I have much regard for your taste, Charlotte, but I suppose I should rather he cavorted with you than that awful Campion woman," said Georgiana.

"Why?" asked Charlotte quickly. "What do you have against Mrs Campion?"

"Oh, is it not obvious, Charlotte? I am sure you already know. She is interested in Sidney only now that he has money, which he did not have before, and she hopes to add to the fortune her late husband left her. I do not believe she is a woman to be trusted with anyone's heart," said Georgiana with an air of contempt. Charlotte took heart from her friend's assessment, even as it left her troubled.

"But what if Mr Parker does still love her?" she said quietly. "What then, if they marry, and there is nothing anyone can do."

Georgiana reached out a sympathetic hand and squeezed Charlotte's within her own.

"Sidney may be a bullheaded, stubborn ass, but he is not a fool, Charlotte," said Georgiana. "I do not think he will fall for Mrs Campion's tricks again, if it is true what she did to him the last time. I have heard that he was driven quite to despair afterwards, and he could not have forgotten that. Besides," said Georgiana quite bracingly. "You are twice as lovely as she, and have such a heart that Sidney Parker scarcely deserves to have won it. If he cannot see what is truly in front of him I shall have no hesitation in assailing him over the head myself until he does."

Charlotte laughed, and felt that her heavy heart might now be greatly lightened, as the balm of friendship is so exceedingly effective in achieving. She bade good-bye to Georgiana, and returned to the Parker residence if not in high spirits, at least less troubled than she had been after her encounter with Mrs Campion.

The peace was scarcely to last, however. In mid afternoon took herself off to the beachfront with the intention of finding seashells in order that the girls might make necklaces for their mother, and found herself walking the now-familiar route past the bathing machines and into the shell-strewn rock beach beyond. She had scarcely set foot on the stones to make her way closer to the water's edge when she heard voices, only barely audible over the sound of the waves, and paused lest she inadvertently stumble into a private conversation.  
  
With a gasp, Charlotte found herself stumbling backwards behind a large pile of rocks, alarmed by the sight of fluttering ribbons coming around the corner mere feet from where Charlotte had stood a moment ago. Not wanting to be caught inadvertently eavesdropping, she remained where she stood, concealed by the rocks but able to glimpse two figures facing the other way on the quiet beach.  
  
"...not appropriate for you to chance upon me here, Eliza, these are not the bathing machines. This is where the men come to bathe, and any one of them might have seen you and assumed something quite improper of you."  
  
"Oh, dear Sidney, do not concern yourself. I was quite careful to be sure none other than you would be present. And I believe we have been intimately acquainted quite long enough for such concerns of propriety to be of little consequence between _us_, have we not?"  
  
Charlotte closed her eyes, mortified. It would be her luck to chance upon the very persons she was trying to avoid in the first place, and she could but think of few things she desired to overhear less than the details of Mrs Campion's intimate relationship with Sidney. But stuck as she was, unable to move without risking either party catching her eavesdropping, she was forced to listen as Sidney cleared his throat and responded in a low voice:   
  
"Eliza, you are well aware we have not been thus acquainted for many years," he said, and Charlotte felt a small stirring of relief. "Am I really to be expected to leap back into the ardour of youth after all that has passed between us?"  
  
Charlotte watched as Mrs Campion, looking up from beneath her eyelashes, moved in closer to Sidney, grasping the edges of his coat with daring disregard for propriety. Sidney did not remove her, and looked down into her fair countenance giving no sense of the thoughts that lay beneath his inscrutable gaze. Yet undeterred, Mrs Campion leaned up further towards him, and Charlotte could bear it no longer. Unable to bear witness anything more of the illicit scene, she held her breath and threw caution to the wind as she began to hurry back up the bank the way she had come, intent on putting as much distance between herself and Sidney Parker as was achievable.

\---

Charlotte spent the rest of the afternoon _quite _determined to forget all about Mrs Campion and her designs, though was only moderately successful in doing so. A headache began to blossom in her temples as she sat with Mary and mended a torn petticoat, and after tea, Charlotte retired to the small upstairs library to read quietly, professing her moderate discomfort as the reason she could not join Mary, Tom and Arthur at cards. It was quite true, for the dull ache had only worsened as the evening drew on, the undoubted consequence of lack of sleep compounded with a trying day.  
  
Wearily closing the door behind her, Charlotte all but dropped upon one end of the couch with a book laid out in her lap but she had barely turned a page before she had closed her eyes, her fingers pressing lightly against her temples as she tried unsuccessfully to banish the throbbing sensation. Such was her concentration on this that it took a moment for the click of the doorknob turning to make itself known to her.   
  
"I find that reading tends to be easier when one's eyes are open, Miss Heywood," came a rich, deep voice in the now-open doorway. Charlotte opened her eyes.  
  
"Perhaps I find the plot no long holds much appeal for me, Mr Parker," she replied, rising to her feet as a slight frown creased her brow. Sidney clasped his hands behind his back, and moved to stand directly in front of her, as if daring her to move away.   
  
"You are avoiding me," he said at last. "It will not do. I would settle the matter now, so we might proceed to the regatta in better spirits. This is about Mrs Campion, am I to assume?"  
  
"You can assume all you like, but do not profess to know my mind," said Charlotte heatedly, her voice sharper than it might have been had he found her in a less disagreeable state. "But while we are on the subject, you may as well explain yourself. You have told me one thing, but all evidence today has been to the contrary, that you _do_ intend to pursue Mrs Campion, which you are entitled to do, of course, for she is fair, and extremely rich, and I daresay-"  
  
"Daresay what?" said Sidney, his expression at once dark and challenging.  
  
"Daresay that she has every _experience_ that you are looking for," said Charlotte.  
  
Sidney put a hand to his own forehead before he turned back to her. "And you think that is what I desire in a woman? That is, I assume, based on what you discovered of me at Beecroft's boarding house? Tell me, what must I do to redeem myself in your eyes, Miss Heywood? Or are your lofty ideals of what a man should be simply unattainable for any mere mortal? "  
  
"It is a fine thing for you to speak of impossible standards, Mr Parker! For you have done nothing but measure me with the very harshest judgment since the moment we met!" exclaimed Charlotte. She took a deep breath and fought to calm her exhausted temper as the throbbing in her temple made itself ever more known. "All I know is that it was not one day ago that you were assuring me that you were not in love with Mrs Campion, and yet today I witnessed her all but throwing herself upon you and I cannot say that you seemed to utter a word of protest against such an outcome. I do not know what I am to believe."  
  
The tension seemed to snap in Sidney, and he ceased his agitated pacing to look sharply at her. "You saw us?"  
  
"At the coves," said Charlotte, belatedly wishing she had had the foresight to phrase her observation in such a way as to conceal her inadvertent espionage. Sidney's brow furrowed deeply.  
  
"What is this skill you have in managing to be constantly witness to matters that you should not be part of?" he said in a low, frustrated voice. "But in this instance, I daresay you were not witness long enough to see that I did not accept Eliza's advances."  
  
Charlotte tried to conceal her surprise, to no avail, as Sidney gave a humourless laugh.   
  
"But you must see that this is a difficult situation," continued Sidney. "Mrs Campion is an important guest at this regatta, and as you so rightly pointed out, she holds a vast fortune to her name. I cannot simply set her aside, and send her retreating back to London with the fortune my brother so dearly hopes she and her party will spend in Sanditon. Her wealth and her social circle could be the making of him."  
  
Charlotte narrowed her eyes and replied: "Even if that is so, I cannot think that it is right that you would permit her to believe that there is hope of a reconciliation if that is _not_ your intention," said Charlotte, holding Sidney's lofty stare. For whatever little regard she might have for the lady, she did not think any woman deserved to be treated with outright deception. Sidney, for his part, had the decency to look away, dipping his head and lowering his gaze.

"No," he said. "That is true enough. But, Miss Heywood, if your counsel is that I must speak honestly with Eliza, then perhaps you will do me the courtesy of being honest with _me._ Why is it that her presence causes you such concern that I find you here alone in such poor spirits?" 

Charlotte looked at him and saw the challenge his expression. She boldly stepped forward so that she was within touching distance of him, at such proximity as would be entirely improper in polite company of any kind. Yet Sidney made no move to increase the space between them and his eyes did not leave hers, his mouth set in a stubborn line that mirrored her own. Charlotte took a deep breath.

"I am sure you have your own opinions on why that would be, but while you have another woman's hopes dangling on your arm I do not feel obliged to share my innermost thoughts with you," she answered softly. Sidney said nothing further, though his fists curled and uncurled while his eyes seemed to shift rapidly between her lips and her eyes. Charlotte waited, tense, uncertain what would come next, 

"Then I must bid you good-night, Miss Heywood. I hope you will be quite recovered come the morning."

"As do I," said Charlotte. "For I find I tire immensely of this headache."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Other parties continue to be a sticking point, but Charlotte and Sidney slowly look to make sense of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this and the final chapter posted before the final episode airs, as it was written from a post-ep 7 and pre-ep 8 perspective. In fact, both were mostly written pre-ep 7, so are divergent from the actual events of the regatta.

In the morning, Charlotte's pain had indeed removed itself, and she felt a great deal more clear-headed after a good night's rest, which she had mercifully obtained despite a second consecutive evening encounter with Sidney Parker. Her light-hearted smile, however, faded somewhat as she went down-stairs and discovered that Tom and Mary were not breaking their fast alone this morning. Sidney was already at the breakfast table, seated at Tom's right hand. He fixed dark, inscrutable eyes upon her as she approached.

"Good morning, my dear," Mary greeted her as Charlotte took her seat beside her, trying not to look in Sidney's direction. "You'll be happy to hear that you've had a gentleman caller already this morning," said Mary, with a gentle humour to her voice.

"What?" said Charlotte, momentarily perplexed as to who she could mean, as almost all the gentlemen she presently knew in Sanditon who might call on her were already seated at the table. Mary smiled conspiratorially.

"Young Mr Stringer. He has been round to see Tom, and on his way out asked if you might like to see the new front on the beach villas, which has now been completed, as you were so interested in his designs previously. Tom agreed, of course, with much enthusiasm, though alas he cannot join you."

"Oh," said Charlotte, relieved, for Mr Stringer was _infinitely_ less complex to deal with than many of her other acquaintances. "Well, I'd be delighted to, of course. The plans were very fine indeed."

She exchanged smiles with Mary, only to glance to her left to find Sidney, staring in her direction, his eyes positively boring into the side of her head. At a loss as to what she had now done to invoke his near-omnipresent ire she resolved to pay him no mind, and proceeded to take her breakfast, though could not help feeling disconcerted all the same as he seemed to studiously avoid looking at her for the remainder of the meal.

Then, when Charlotte rose from the table to fetch her coat and hat in advance of walking to town, she was accosted upon the stairs by Sidney himself, hastening to catch her halfway up her ascent with his hand shockingly laid upon her bare forearm. She jumped at the contact and looked up at him in alarm.

"Mr Parker?"

"Pray tell me what I am to make of that, Miss Heywood?" said Sidney, his eyes full of something like fire and frustration. "You would chastise me only yesterday for my _continued acquaintance _with Eliza, whilst you cavort alone with Stringer yourself?"

"That is quite different!" exclaimed Charlotte, thoroughly shocked. "How dare you! Mr Stringer is a decent and kind man, and as you well know, I have had no romantic involvement with him whatsoever. We simply share common interests, as friends might!"

"Oh, I see, and does young Mr Stringer believe that is all there is?" said Sidney.

"Of _course_ he does, for he certainly does not regard me in such a manner!" said Charlotte, quite incensed, and convinced of her vindication. Yet Sidney laughed bitterly, holding her gaze, his fingers still grazing her arm and throwing her off an even footing.

"Miss Heywood, could it be that you simply do not have much skill in determining when a man regards you in such a manner?" Sidney responded. "And even if you have no sentiment towards Stringer, is it not the case that you are leading the man to hope, just as you so accused me of doing to Eliza? Unless, of course, the truth is, you invite his interest because it is indeed returned by you."

"Sir, you presume far too much!" Charlotte exclaimed, at last pulling her arm from his grasp and regarding him with an unknowable tumult of anger and shock. Sidney, at the look on her face, released her arm as if he had himself been suddenly burnt, at once stepped back and turned his head away.

"Forgive me," he muttered. "I speak out of turn. I beg your pardon, Miss Heywood." And he took a step away from her, then several more, until his back was turned and he made great haste towards the door which led to the drawing room and closed it soundly after him, leaving Charlotte to gasp her antipathy and her indignation to the empty hallway.

\---

Charlotte did not see Sidney again that day, or indeed the next, and spent the days assisting Tom with the plans for the regatta. She began to reason that she ought to put him from her mind entirely, for there was no sense in holding onto such an attachment that was evidently doomed to founder on the rocks of their inability to converse without each eliciting vexation and censure from the other.

Newly resolved and keen to ensure she remained busy, on the morning of the regatta itself, Charlotte stood upon the riverbank with a handful of brightly-coloured bunting in hand, and considered whether it would be too unseemly of a lady to climb upon the chair in order to pin the flags to the winner's marquee. Before she could throw caution to the wind and set foot upon the chair, however, her solitude was interrupted by a voice calling from the path through the trees, soon accompanied by footsteps approaching her.

"Miss Heywood."

Charlotte concealed a long suffering sigh. It was as if Sidney Parker had made it his singular aim to harangue her both morning and of late, night, as well. She turned to face him with a well-practised smile of politeness that did not touch her eyes.

"Mr Parker," she said. "These days it seems it is I who cannot escape you."

"Then I am very sorry to have given you cause to wish to do so," he said. He looked unusually weary, and his brow appeared more shadowed, as if he had not slept at all for days, and Charlotte found herself, against her instincts, distracted from her annoyance by a sudden concern for his welfare.

"You do not look yourself, Mr Parker," she said, shifting her weight to one foot, then the other. "Are you quite well?"

"I think perhaps I have not been _well_ since I came to make your acquaintance, if the truth be known," he said. "But do not trouble yourself. For the reason I am come is to apologise, once again. It seems I do little else when it comes to you, Miss Heywood."

"And what is it you would apologise for?" asked Charlotte warily.

"For my presumption, the other day, with regards to your relationship with Mr Stringer. I am aware that such a matter is entirely your own business. I have come to realise I am scarcely in a position to censure you when I myself have behaved in a manner that is hardly becoming of a gentleman."

Charlotte hesitated, setting aside the brightly coloured string of flags and walking slowly towards the water's edge, where the rowboats bobbed blithely ahead of the gentlemen's race. Sidney moved with her, remaining a cautious number of steps behind as if afraid of driving her away.

"I do accept your apology, Mr Parker," said Charlotte. "But I confess I wonder if we can truly go on in this manner, being constantly at odds with one another. I fear it is doing neither of us any good."

"Then what do you suggest?" asked Mr Parker, a shadow passing rapidly over his countenance. "If your wish is that I leave you alone, Miss Heywood, you need only say so, and we shall speak no more of the subject."

"No," said Charlotte quickly, her brow furrowed as she turned to face him. "That is not my wish at all."

"Then what is?" asked Sidney.

"I... I suppose I wish that we be _honest_ with one another," answered Charlotte. "It seems with you I am constantly trying to entangle what it is you mean by what you say and do, and I find cannot fathom you for a second. What _am_ I to you, Mr Parker?"

"I..." Sidney did not seem to have an answer. He sighed deeply, and regarded Charlotte sidelong. But just as he seemed about to speak once more, they were interrupted by a blithe voice calling from the direction of the path.

"There you are, Sidney," said Sidney's brother Arthur, puffing somewhat from exertion as he approached. "I do apologise for the intrusion, but I must ask that you come at once, for Mrs Campion is indisposed, and asking for you most imploringly! Your see, I rather feared she might have my eye out, if I did not comply with her request that I bring you henceforth to her," said Arthur with his typical earnestness, as he leant rather heavily on Sidney’s shoulder to regain his breath.

Sidney's look was one of frustration and confusion in equal parts. He half turned as if to follow Arthur, yet hesitated and looked to Charlotte, who sighed and shook her head.

"You should go to her," she said. "I quite understand."

"Later," said Sidney, stepping back towards her and speaking with a low intensity. He looked as if he wanted to reach for her hand, but knew he could not. "Please, Charlotte. Meet with me here, once the activities have concluded, and we shall finish this conversation, I promise you."

Charlotte was taken aback by the intimacy of the proposition and the sound of her given name once more upon his lips, yet found herself nodding her head before she had the chance to consider the implications in full. With her agreement secured, Sidney followed Arthur back to town, where the majority of the visitors were still enjoying the luncheon spread.

Charlotte remained where she was, though there was little left to do besides hanging the bunting over the marquee, marking the finish line of the gentlemen's rowing race. She finished the decoration in something of a haze of preoccupation. Whilst she was frustrated by Mrs Campion's ability to constantly come between her and Sidney apparently regardless of whether she was present or not, she could not help but feel a small burgeoning hope that she had at least made some progress towards knowing the mind of the unknowable Sidney Parker.

Whether she would like what she discovered, of course, was an entirely different consideration. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our couple finally sets sail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has all been a bit of a rush to get out as I didn't want to watch episode 8 and then end up wanting to rewrite everything depending on how that goes, so apologies if it's a bit unrefined. It's a bit of an alt-take on episode 7's events. So much to all who have stuck with it and reviewed, you are the actual best.

"I was worried you wouldn't come," said Sidney, turning at the sound of Charlotte's approaching footsteps. He was standing overlooking the rowboats, moored together following the day's excitement. One of them now had a large dent along the side, following Mr Crowe's questionable skippering of his craft in the race, yet remained watertight enough.

"I would not go back on my word," said Charlotte, coming to stand beside Sidney. "Not even to you," she added lightly, and heard him chuckle as they watched the movement of the boats, bobbing only slightly in the mostly still water. Charlotte looked up at him. "I suppose I must congratulate you on your victory," she said, offering up a small smile. Sidney looked back and her and laughed quietly.

"I fear it was in large part due to Crowe's hip flask and singular determination to cross paths with every other boat in the competition, but I'll be happy to accept the glory," said Sidney.

Charlotte laughed. "Then perhaps you might begin to practise for next year, that you may yet win in earnest," she said. Sidney followed Charlotte's gaze over the moorings and a stroke of mischief overtook his usually stern expression.

"You're quite right. There's only one thing for it," said Sidney, and with a tidy leap he landed neatly aboard the endmost boat. "Would you care to commandeer this vessel with me, Admiral Heywood?"

Charlotte's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm not sure I-"

"A man cannot sail alone," said Sidney, his gaze unexpectedly warm as he held out his hand to her. So despite her reservations, both in respect of her own seaworthiness and about finding herself in such close proximity to her apparent crewmate, Charlotte found herself placing her bare hand in his, and letting him draw her aboard with a solid guiding arm around her waist to steady her as she jumped. If his hand lingered too long at her hip, neither of them acknowledged it, and Charlotte carefully lowered herself into the seat, watching uncertainly as Sidney sat facing her, lifting the oars and beginning to row them smoothly out into open water without a backward look.

They were quiet at first, though companionably so, and Charlotte found herself taking the opportunity to study him, her eyes sweeping over him quite brazenly, noting every minute detail of his features now that she was able to observe him so closely, for once without others or their own ill humour to distract and interrupt, until he looked up and caught her eye, and caused her to blush.

"Would that life could always be as easy to navigate as this river," Sidney commented, giving her a subdued smile. Charlotte returned it uneasily, and watched the oars slide smoothly through the water.

"I daresay you have much on your mind. How does Mrs Campion fare?" she asked, assuming that the situation was the difficulty he now referred to, as she had heard nothing of her condition since Sidney was summoned to her side hours earlier. Sidney pursed his lips.

"As it turns out she only suffered a slight sprain to her ankle whilst walking on the beach," said Sidney. "As to her further condition, I can tell you no more, for she will be arriving back in London as we speak. She did not care to stay for the remainder of the regatta."

Charlotte was silent for a moment, hardly daring to let herself imagine. "She had looked to be enjoying herself well enough to me. What happened to cause her such offence?" she asked, and dared to trail her fingers gently through the surface of the river, if only to avoid confronting the intensity of Sidney's expression. He did not answer immediately.

"She told me of her wish to reunite. To return to London together and live the life we might have had a decade ago, as husband and wife," replied Sidney at last. Charlotte remained silent, her heart full of anxious anticipation.

"And what was your answer?" she asked in a voice that was little above a whisper. Sidney set down the oars.

"I told her that I could not grant her wish."

Charlotte felt the release of something powerful in her chest as she met his eye, and struggled for the appearance of composure even as her heart leapt. Sidney continued: "Because the man I am today is not the same one she left behind all those years ago. Because she is not the same woman I once cared for. And because..."

Sidney reached out slowly and took one of Charlotte's hands in his, regarding her with a vulnerability Charlotte had not expected to find in his usually stoic countenance. As his fingers closed about hers, their boat rotated, slowly, calmly, bobbing on the low current in the middle of the river. "Because you see, Charlotte, I find the only place I now wish to be, is the place where you choose to be, wherever that is, and in whatever capacity you would have me."

Charlotte could not keep the slow, shy smile from breaking across her face, a gradually expanding expression of such happiness as to leave Sidney in no doubt of her reception of his sentiments, though she stumbled for the words to express what lay upon her heart.

"In truth, I would have you beside me in every capacity there could be," said Charlotte quietly. She tilted her face up towards him "I know that I am naive, and know so little of matters of the heart. And you have seen much of the world, and indeed could have your choice of any woman. I confess... I cannot fathom that it could be true that my feelings should be returned."

Sidney looked at her, considering, his head slightly tilted and his hands warm and solid in hers. Slowly, he knelt forwards so that he was as close to her as the precariousness of their vessel allowed, and said:

"If I cannot persuade you of such now, then if you will allow me, I intend spend every one of my days endeavouring to do so."

Charlotte smiled, surprised to find herself somewhat tearful even as her joy overcame her. Sidney beamed to see her smile, and reached up to place a strand of her wayward hair behind her ear, as carefully as if it were spun gold between his fingers.

"Now, come on," he said, sitting back that he might take his place on the seat to catch up the oars once again. "It's your turn. Give me your hands."

Charlotte hesitated, but at the teasing look she found when she met his eye she smiled and placed her hands on the oars. He covered them with his own, and together they began to drive the boat purposefully through the calm water, each catching the other's eye and laughing whenever they wobbled off course.

"That's it," Sidney said, as Charlotte obtained a rhythm over the oars. "Good. Keep your back straight."

As if forgetting himself, or perhaps not, Sidney reached out and smoothed his hand down her side to guide her position, running down the top of her thigh and leaving her catching her breath in surprise and something more, before he seemed to catch himself, glancing down in slight embarrassment before meeting her gaze. He laughed then, openly, and Charlotte returned his smile with a newfound warmth between them that made her heart ache for something she did not know how to name.

"We had better return," said Charlotte reluctantly, when at last they drew back alongside the moorings once more. She looked up at the telltale signs of the darkening sky overhead, a fine day turning quickly to a cooler night. "I daresay your brother will send out a search party if we don't."

"If he does not, Mary will certainly hunt us down," agreed Sidney, and he reached out to the mooring ropes to tie them carefully alongside the bank. He climbed out first, then reached out and took Charlotte's hands as she made the leap herself, once more bringing his hands about her waist to help her land, only this time, she felt both of his hands linger gently on her sides even as her feet returned to solid ground. She looked up at him as her cheeks grew warm, yet made no move to step out of his grasp.

"Charlotte..." said Sidney, and then he seemed to lean in impossibly close, his presence an overwhelming, irresistible barrage on her senses as she stared up at him, observing his parted lips.

"Yes?" she breathed, but there was to be no response, for his lips were upon hers in the next moment, at first chaste and gentle, a pressure so light as to leave her wanting, a wildness growing in her chest so rapidly she could not prevent a gasp, though her breath was stolen by Sidney claiming her mouth again. He kissed her fiercely, a desperate longing passing unspoken between them as he held her, guided her, awoke every possible glorious sentiment in her, until at last he drew back, breathing heavily. He leaned his forehead tenderly against hers. 

"If I have not made it clear to you, Charlotte Heywood, I love you," he said. "So vastly more than I ever imagined could be possible."

Charlotte blinked away a sudden overflow of tears and placed her hand upon his cheek.

"I love you too."


End file.
